


Never Had the Words to Say

by alltimelexi



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Artist Zayn, Football Player Louis, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 09:45:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltimelexi/pseuds/alltimelexi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn finishes a commission painting and goes to drown his sorrows in a bar. Instead, his pouting gets interrupted by a football player his old friend Harry used to go on about. Stuff happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Had the Words to Say

**Author's Note:**

> for Rachel!

The bar was dark and Zayn’s drink was cold. He had been working on a commission all day and the lack of creative input he actually got on the project had made everything just… bleak. He had quit his job to do what he loved, but what he loved wasn’t painting a picture of a boat for some upper class white family who sneered down at him while ordering.

Sometimes Zayn thought it would be nicer to just retreat into a room and spray paint the walls and never leave. 

He was getting ready to order another drink, maybe something stronger than his rum and coke, when someone sat down on the stool beside him. Zayn didn’t glance over, but several others around the bar did. It wasn’t until he caught the bar tender staring that Zayn looked at the newcomer.

It was Louis Tomlinson. Zayn knew him, objectively, because one of his old coworkers, Harry, had been big into his football team. Or, more so, he was big into Louis himself. Zayn wasn’t a fan, but he nodded his head in greeting before trying to get the bartender’s attention again.

“Hey,” Louis said to him, which caused Zayn to look over in surprise. He wasn’t used to anyone talking to him, let alone people being called the next David Beckham on sports channels. 

“Hello,” he said quietly, finally getting the bartender’s attention and signaling for another drink. He glanced at the football star beside him once more, trying to decide what exactly he wanted by talking to him. He didn’t see any malice on the star’s face, only what could be described as a cocky grin.

“I’m Louis,” he said, holding out a hand. 

Zayn reached over to shake it, twisting his body a little awkwardly, and responded with a simple, “Zayn.”

“What are you doing at a bar on a Tuesday night, Zayn?” Louis asked after ordering himself a drink. Zayn noticed that the bartended made his drink a lot quicker than he’d made Zayn’s. 

“Just rewinding,” Zayn replied, not really one to give out much information about himself. Not even to handsome football players. He took a sip of his drink, trying to decide if he wanted Louis to keep up a conversation or drop it.

“Rewinding from what?” Louis asked, taking a gulp of his drink. 

“Work,” Zayn said, raising an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing in a bar on a Tuesday night?”

Louis smirked at him, shrugging his shoulders. “Rewinding.”

Zayn quirked a smile at that, shaking his head and turning back to his drink. He didn’t answer, which led Louis to lean closer to him. “You don’t say much, do you Zayn?” he asked, smirking at him. Zayn could see why his old friend Harry seemed to on and on about this guy. He was definitely attractive, especially up close and smirking at him.

Maybe that was the alcohol though.

“I never have much to talk about,” Zayn said, not looking at Louis and instead looking down at his rum and coke.

“I bet I could change that,” Louis said, so casually that Zayn wasn’t sure he’d heard right. 

He looked up; locking eyes with the football star, before basically stuttering out, “Excuse me?”

Louis laughed, shaking his head, “You heard me.” 

Zayn was pretty sure that this was actually just a dream and he’d fallen asleep working on the boring commission. They must have been talking about Louis Tomlinson on the TV and it had leaked into Zayn’s subconscious. 

“Is that too forward of me?” Louis asked, suddenly looking worried, “Or does it not make sense, I’ve been told that a lot of my pick up lines don’t make sense.”

The more Louis talked, the more confused Zayn became. No one had tried to pick him up in a bar since he was… he had to have been seventeen and going out with friends with fake IDs. In fact, he could hardly remember the last hook up he’d had. It had been almost a year ago.

Maybe Zayn had actually become a hermit and hadn’t realized. He had assumed his mom would tell him if he didn’t go outside enough, but the thought dawned on him, he had hardly spoken to his mother in months. She wouldn’t know if he went outside or not.

Suddenly, Zayn felt a bit pathetic.

“Um,” he said, running a hand over his face, “a bit confusing yeah, you should work on that. But no, I got what you were saying, I was just confused as to, you know, why.”

The worry on Louis’ face was immediately replaced by that cocky grin again. It looked good on him, although Zayn normally listened cocky as a turn off.   
“You know we’ve met before, right?” Louis asked, and Zayn was pretty sure they hadn’t, but decided to humor him with a raised eyebrow. “You know Liam? Liam Payne? He and I have known each other since high school. We used to see you and your friends every once in awhile. I don’t think you ever really even knew my name though.”

That was a shock, but thinking back, Zayn did remember Liam. He couldn’t say he remembered Louis specifically but he knew Liam had a lot of friends with him at most times. “Oh,” he said, pausing a minute, “and that’s why you hit on me?”

“Well, no, I hit on you because you have ungodly cheekbones,” Louis said, which made Zayn blush.

“Oh,” he said, nodding as if that made sense. It didn’t.

“So, what do you say? You wanna come over to my place?” Louis asked.

Zayn paused, finishing his drink in one final gulp, and shaking his head. He grabbed a napkin and scribbled down his cell phone number, handing it to Louis. “Not tonight. But call me sometime,” he said, standing up.

Louis looked a little taken aback that his advancement had been turned down, but slowly a small smile formed on his face. “Do I at least get a kiss goodbye?” he asked, looking up at him.

Zayn was about to say no, because they were in a bar and they had just met, but decided against it at the last second. He was in his twenties, not his forties, there was nothing wrong with being a little impulsive sometimes. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Louis’ briefly, letting Louis place a hand on the back of his neck and hold him there for a bit.

Neither of them attempted to deepen the kiss. That could be saved for a later date. This was just the promise of something more in the future. Once they broke apart, Louis let him go and Zayn straightened back up. “So yeah. Call me,” he said again, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, I definitely will,” Louis said, before smiling and turning back to his drink. 

Zayn turned and left the bar, shoving his hands in his pockets and trying to decide if he wanted to call for a taxi or take the metro. Just when he had decided on a cab, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

He pulled it out and looked at the screen, where an unknown number was flashing. He answered it, a tad confused, “Hello?”

“Well, you said to call you,” a voice said, and Zayn recognized it as Louis almost immediately. 

Zayn couldn’t stop himself from smiling.


End file.
